


The Jedi's Gambit

by Wolveria



Series: Bounty Hunter Blues [3]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Porn, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bounty hunter blues, Distressed Cad Bane, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Intrigue, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sith Artifacts, Space Road Trip, That's Not How The Force Works, The Dark Side of the Force, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria
Summary: The day Cad Bane turned himself in caused quite a stir at the Jedi Temple.The way Luminara told it, he simply walked up the steps, approached the nearest Temple Guard, and said, “I surrender.” Toothy smirk and all.Yes, Obi-Wan definitely had a bad feeling about this.
Relationships: Cad Bane/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Bounty Hunter Blues [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/552709
Comments: 187
Kudos: 212
Collections: Trash Man Challenge





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's here! The final part of the series y'all have been patiently waiting for!
> 
> I just have to say, y'all are amazing. The comments and asks and messages I've received over the past 4 years have been astounding and to be honest, are the reason this update is happening.
> 
> I haven't finished writing the story yet, but I'm quite a few chapters in and I felt everyone has waited long enough. Please let me know what you think, and enjoy your time with the bounty hunter and his Jedi.

The day Cad Bane turned himself in caused quite a stir at the Jedi Temple.

The way Luminara told it, he simply walked up the steps, approached the nearest Temple Guard, and said, “I surrender.” Toothy smirk and all.

Obi-Wan could hardly believe it. Masters Yoda and Windu assured him this was so, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of the notorious bounty hunter walking into the Jedi’s sanctuary to be willingly captured.

“Why?” he asked, already trying to figure out Bane’s angle. Because there was one. There was always an agenda with the bounty hunter, and Obi-Wan had learned that lesson the hard way.

“We’re not sure,” Mace answered, seemingly just as perplexed as Obi-Wan. He gazed out of the council chambers window, brow creased in thought. A session had just concluded when they had received word of Bane’s surrender. “He said he would only speak to Master Skywalker.”

_“Anakin?”_

Now Obi-Wan knew for certain something was amiss. What game was Bane playing this time? After he had stolen the Sith artifact smuggled on the _Delano_ , Obi-Wan was sure he wouldn’t see the bounty hunter again for a long time. But it had only been a few weeks since that last fateful encounter. It seemed the Duros couldn’t help himself when it came to trouble, specifically making trouble for the Order and Obi-Wan in particular.

“Why would he wish to speak to Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked with a heavy sigh, his fingers itching to rub the spot on his temple where pressure was growing.

“Know that, we do not,” Master Yoda answered gravely, leaning on his gimer stick as he frowned. “Strange, it is. Darkness I sense, around the bounty hunter.”

“Darkness?” he asked, bemused. Obi-Wan didn’t sense any darkness, but he did sense something else. A pit appeared in his stomach. This was _his_ fault. If he hadn’t allowed himself to be compromised on the _Delano_ , Bane wouldn’t have had the opportunity to become entangled with an undoubtedly dangerous Sith artifact.

“I must speak with him,” he said. There was no point in putting off the inevitable, as tempting as that might be. “Where is he now?”

“The Republic military base,” Mace answered thoughtfully, turning to give Obi-Wan a significant look.

“But… this is an internal Jedi matter,” Obi-Wan objected as Mace expected him to from the look on his face. “If Bane handed himself over to Jedi authority, then why is he imprisoned in the _military complex?”_

“Questions in need of answering these are, yes,” Yoda answered mysteriously. Obi-Wan felt the throbbing pulse at his temple increase at the ancient Jedi’s vague musings.

“If they’re keeping him at the base, then that is where I shall go,” Obi-Wan told them, his tone resolute as he turned away from the window.

“He said he would only talk to Skywalker,” Mace reminded him evenly, causing Obi-Wan to pause.

“Then I’ll accompany Anakin and see what _he_ can get out of Bane.” He certainly wasn’t going to allow his old Padawan to speak to Bane alone. Obi-Wan trusted Anakin explicitly, but Obi-Wan didn’t trust Bane whether he was free or in prison. Perhaps even less so now that he was in a cell.

“That… might be an issue.” Mace sounded tired, which Obi-Wan took as a bad sign.

“Why?” Obi-Wan asked carefully.

“Master Skywalker, gone he is. Summoned he was, but answer he does not,” Yoda offered with a slight tilt of his head.

Obi-Wan puzzled over this statement. That couldn’t be right. Anakin was on meditative retreat, but Obi-Wan knew for a fact he was still planet-side. So why wouldn’t he be answering his comm? He should always have it present in case of an emergency, and Obi-Wan constituted this situation as such.

“If Anakin isn’t available, then I’ll go alone. I have history with Bane,” he added before the Masters could object. Oh, he had _history_ with the bounty hunter, all right, but the two Masters in front of him didn’t need to know the sordid nature of _that_ particular piece of Obi-Wan’s past. “Maybe he won’t speak to me, but perhaps he will. At the very least, I can get a gauge on his intentions and what he hopes to gain from this surrender.”

Yoda slightly bowed his head. “Hope I have, that you will discover the reason behind this event. Act without reason, this bounty hunter does not.”

“Let us know what you find, if anything,” Mace added with a grave look.

“I will,” Obi-Wan responded grimly. He knew he would have to pick and choose which information he relayed to them, carefully sorting out what was relevant and what was incriminating.

After all, because of Obi-Wan’s last encounter with Bane, he had a few secrets of his own now.

* * *

As Obi-Wan was led down the prison corridors by the Coruscant Guards, he steeled himself for the coming confrontation. Facing the bounty hunter was going to test every facet of his composure, and it did not help that he felt as if he were going in blindfolded and underequipped. Knowing Bane’s intentions would have helped greatly in knowing what he could expect.

But even if he didn’t know Bane’s reasoning, Obi-Wan could anticipate the twisted delight he would take from seeing the Jedi Master again.

He could just see it now: Bane’s face alighting with wry humor, exposing his fangs beyond the curl of his lips as he appraised Obi-Wan with bright red eyes. Already Obi-Wan could feel his stomach twisting in some strange space between anxiety and anticipation. He had tried to meditate beforehand, knowing the conflict ahead of him, but the only thoughts that couldn’t be dispelled were the exact ones he didn’t want to have. Memories of cool touches and long fingers.

Obi-Wan drew in a steadying breath as they came to a stop before the cell door, and he gave a nod to the guard nearest the keypad. The clone trooper tapped the button to open the door, and it slid open to reveal a sight Obi-wan wasn’t expecting.

Cad Bane slouched across the raised ledge against the wall, his long limbs draped casually. He wore binders on his wrists, but his body language could have easily been at home in a cantina.

Except for one thing: the obvious bruises covering his face and hands. The corner of his lip was stained green, and one of his eyes was almost swollen shut. Despite his wounds, Bane looked up at Obi-Wan and smiled. Contrasted with his bruises, the smile seemed wrong. So very, very wrong.

“Bane?” Obi-Wan blurted in confusion before he could stop himself. “What’s happened to you?”

The bounty hunter’s pained grin spread, and he responded, “You know me, Kenobi. I ain’t one to come quietly.”

The double-entendre would have normally caused Obi-Wan to scowl, his cheeks flushing with angered embarrassment, but he could only stare at Bane’s abused visage. Who had done this to him? Not the Jedi, certainly. The troopers? Someone else? He didn’t recall Luminara remarking on Bane’s condition being anything other than typical, and surely she would have mentioned him looking so abused.

Which left only one conclusion: Bane had received his wounds _after_ surrendering.

A new emotion twisted Obi-Wan’s stomach, something bordering between worry and anger. He tried to suppress the emotion, but it clung to him like a mynock on the hull of a ship.

“Bane. Tell me who’s done this,” he demanded in a low voice, moving closer. Obi-Wan heard the _whoosh_ of the cell door shutting behind him, and he was curious to see one of the clone troopers had followed him inside.

Bane’s smile began to fade, replaced by something more along the line of a scowl. “I’m talkin’ to Skywalker or I’m talkin’ to no one,” he informed the Jedi.

“And why do you wish to see Anakin?”

Obi-Wan figured since Bane had changed topics, he wasn’t going to reveal who had harmed him. Obi-Wan would play along for now, but he fully intended to find out the truth sooner or later. Criminal or not, Bane was their prisoner, which meant he was afforded the right to not be tortured or abused while in their custody.

“Maybe I like him better dhan you,” Bane answered coolly, a languid smirk appearing on his face. “Dhat Padawan of yours is a hot piece o’ ass, I ain’t gonna lie.”

“Would you like me to take care of the prisoner’s smart mouth, sir?” the guard asked from behind. Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder, not liking the trooper’s dark tone or darker words.

Before he could respond, Bane sneered and said, “You’d like dhat, wouldn’t you, clone?” He bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Bet I could do tings with my mouth dhat’ll leave you hot and sweaty in your cold bunk tonight—“

The trooper rushed at Bane. Obi-Wan interceded, placing his hands on the trooper’s chestplate, and stopped him right before he could strike Bane with the butt of his raised rifle.

“ _Stand down,_ trooper!” Obi-Wan commanded in an authoritative tone that didn’t reveal any of his internal confusion. The guard obeyed, but he didn’t have to see the man’s face to know he was glaring at the bounty hunter over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

 _What was going on?_ He knew Bane could be irritating, even infuriating at times, but it took a lot more than this to rile up a battle-tested soldier.

“My apologies, General,” the clone trooper finally answered, his tone just below hateful and somewhere around loathing.

“I need time with the prisoner. _Alone,”_ Obi-Wan emphasized. He wasn’t going to get any answers out of Bane if the soldier was ready and willing to attack their prisoner at a moment’s notice.

The trooper gave a terse, “Yes, sir,” turned, and left the cell without another word. Obi-Wan didn’t have time to worry what _that_ was about, so he turned back to stare at the bound Duros. Bane’s leering grin was gone, and he now stared at Obi-Wan with an unreadable expression on his face.

The Jedi turned, waved his hand toward the camera, and shut off the recording device. If Obi-Wan couldn’t trust the guards to act appropriately, he wasn’t sure who to trust, and that was not a feeling he had ever had to deal with before.

“Wantin’ to be alone with me, Kenobi?” Bane asked as Obi-Wan turned back to him. The suggestive tone seemed half-hearted at best. No, if anything, Bane looked at him with caution rather than lecherous thoughts.

“Where is the Sith artifact you stole?”

Bane twisted the corner of his lip into something sharp and unpleasant.

“Don’t know whatchu mean, Kenobi,” he remarked, casually observing his smooth, blue fingertips, as if he found something interesting there. “No artifacts here. No Skywalkers, neither. So scurry back to yer masters and leave me be.”

Obi-Wan strode forward, crowding in Bane’s personal space. He felt a small tinge of guilt as the Duros sat up very quickly, his back rigid against the hard wall. All humor evaporated from his face as he glared up at the Jedi Master. Obi-Wan stepped back a foot, watching as the bounty hunter eased up a little.

Now _this_ was definitely unlike him. Bane’s façade of casual composure had dropped in an instant, and now he looked cagey and nervous. It only further proved to Obi-Wan that his initial assessment had been the correct one: Bane had sustained these injuries _after_ his capture. Not before.

“Bane. Anakin isn’t coming.”

The bounty hunter didn’t react. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if that was due to a well-honed Sabacc face, or if he had known his demands wouldn’t be met to begin with.

“If you want something from the Order,” Obi-Wan continued in an even tone, “then tell me what it is. You know I will listen, at the very least.”

Bane stared up at him for a long moment, his arms crossed over his chest as his large eyes narrowed with an all-too familiar look of suspicion.

Obi-Wan was about to give up, when Bane leaned forward and spoke quickly but with unsettling desperation.

“Protection. And I want to be pardoned for my crimes. _All_ of them.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot upwards in amazement.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Full immunity. And protection. Dhose are my terms.”

“In exchange for the artifact?” Obi-Wan asked, still reeling from the fact Bane had just asked for the Republic to protect him.

“The artifact… and information. About my past employers. Specifically… deh one who hired me for the Holocron job.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it. Bane wasn’t just willing to hand over what he’d stolen, but he was going to be an informant as well? It sounded too good to be true, which meant it probably was.

“I don’t mean to sound as if I doubt your integrity, Bane, but… why? You’ve never been willing to cooperate before.”

The bounty hunter studied his face, and Obi-Wan knew he was weighing the pros and cons of saying more. In the end, Bane went for a more cautious approach.

“Does it matter? You get what you want, and I get what I want. Dhis is a straightforward negotiation, Kenobi.”

Bane didn’t even smirk at the word _negotiation_. The lack of any improper teasing was probably one of the most alarming aspects of this whole conversation. If Bane wasn’t doing everything he could to verbally prod at Obi-Wan’s sense of pride and honor, then something was deeply wrong.

Obi-Wan found himself stroking his beard as he contemplated the bounty hunter’s words. Bane watched his every move, but the bounty hunter remained silent and expressionless. The Jedi sighed.

“I’ll need to discuss this with the Council, but I’m confident they will agree to your terms. They are… reasonable.”

 _Alarmingly so,_ Obi-Wan thought. The Republic was coming out of this deal the winner, and that just bespoke of how desperate Bane must be. If his offer was sincere, then that probably meant his last employer spooked the bounty hunter enough to send him running into the figurative arms of the Order.

Obi-Wan didn’t know anything that could scare Bane that much. There was only one other time he’d seen the Duros shaken: when he’d refused to give his employer’s name under duress as Anakin, Mace, and Obi-Wan had tried to break into his mind. He had endured the torture for longer than most, because apparently the alternative had been worse.

“Well, what’re you waitin’ for?” Bane asked harshly, interrupting Obi-Wan from his thoughts. “Run along back to your masters. Time’s wastin’.”

He leaned back against his ledge-seat, crossing his arms in front of his lean chest. It was clear that Bane was done talking. Obi-Wan gave him one last lingering look before he left the cell, but Bane stared pointedly at the floor, refusing to meet the Jedi’s eye.

Yes, Obi-Wan definitely had a bad feeling about this.


	2. Chapter 2

The Council agreed that a Sith artifact and information revealing who had wanted to destroy the future of the Order through the abduction of Force-sensitive younglings was worth its weight in ingots.

Bu apparently, it wasn’t worth a full pardon.

Obi-Wan was stretched to his limits. He knew Bane had done unforgiveable things (killing Jedi amongst them), but they were losing the war. It wasn’t obvious at first glance, but like a glacier falling into the sea the Republic was slowly and inevitably sliding toward defeat. Information from someone like Bane, who worked in many elusive circles and had been in the game longer than most, was _invaluable._

Plus, Bane could finally confirm the Council’s suspicions that the Sith Lord they had been searching for was responsible for the abduction of the Force-sensitive younglings, putting the entire future of the Order at risk.

Obi-Wan saw Bane’s demands as entirely within their power. The Council didn’t see it that way. They didn’t want to take the risk of pardoning the bounty hunter.

It was not the first time the Council had made a decision that struck Obi-Wan as unwise. Sometimes, he wondered if they prioritized purity over practicality. Of course, it was not unheard of that the Masters would deal with elements of the underworld, but apparently _this_ was too much for their honor to accept.

Obi-Wan wanted to crack through his reserved composure and tell them their honor was ceded the moment they became the frontline soldiers in an intergalactic war.

He nearly shocked himself with the extent of his own unhappiness with the Council. Obi-Wan hadn’t always thought this way, but he couldn’t deny his faith had been shaken after his stint as the infamous Rako Hardeen.

He had voiced his doubts to no one. Who would he have told? Anakin? The boy’s faith in the Council was shaken enough—he didn’t need Obi-Wan to add to it.

Luminara? Hardly. She adhered to the Code even more stringently than Obi-Wan did, and that was saying something. She might try to be sympathetic to his new, unbidden feelings of conflict, but she wouldn’t understand them.

Mace? The wise Jedi might have understood. He had done things that weren’t exactly _pristine_ during his tenure as a Jedi Master, and he might commiserate with Obi-Wan’s doubts now, but he couldn’t risk Mace losing faith in him either. If anyone looked at him too closely, stared just a little too long, they might sense his unfaltering trust in the Code had begun to…

Well, falter.

So, Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut, jaw clenched tightly as he listened to Mace, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Yoda deliberate on Bane’s fate. In the end, they decided they needed to meditate on it, and Obi-Wan left the Council Chambers with a pulsating headache between his eyes. He’d told them about Bane’s condition, how he had suffered abuse at the hands of _someone_ , and they’d made vague promises to look into the matter and then moved on to the next topic.

As if the idea of a Republic prisoner being tortured in their custody wasn’t something that needed serious attention.

He went to bed distressed that night. Even meditation couldn’t unburden his concerns and lingering sense of dread. Cad Bane never ceased to make matters more complicated, even when he was supposedly trying to cooperate. From his capture to his demands, nothing was simple and the Force hummed with an undercurrent of something larger at play. Obi-Wan just wished he wasn’t the only one who seemed to feel it.

And then there was the matter of Obi-Wan and his own complicated feelings in regards to the bounty hunter. He continued to push the memories of what happened on the _Delano_ to the furthest reaches of his mind.

He hadn’t been the first Jedi to break the Code, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last, but Obi-Wan was quite sure none of his predecessors had broken their oath quite like he had. There had been many Jedi in the past that had “gotten in bed with the enemy” and joined the dark side. Obi-Wan had _literally_ gotten into bed with the enemy, but still maintained he was on the side of the Light.

It was hypocritical, and dangerous, and it was why Obi-Wan had shut out all thoughts of Bane. It was why he had to do so now, and remain objective and fair when it came to Bane’s fate. The gnawing pit in his stomach had everything to do with getting the Sith artifact into safekeeping and nothing to do with any kind of concern for the reckless bounty hunter.

And yet… he couldn’t forget the look on Bane’s face as Obi-Wan had drawn near. Couldn’t ignore the way his chest hurt when he first saw Bane’s bruised face, and how he had pretended everything was typical and that he hadn’t been terribly abused by his captors.

Well, to _hell_ with waiting around. Obi-Wan would investigate the matter himself. He didn’t need to wait for the Council’s approval for that. With that thought in mind, Obi-Wan finally shut his eyes to sleep.

When he opened them, he was no longer in his bedroom. Grey, glittering, uneven walls rose around him. He realized he was in a mineral quarry, surrounded by broken bits of blue gemstone that were strangely familiar.

_“…die… my feet… like a man.”_

_“You’re not… piece of trash… disposed of as such…”_

Obi-Wan turned to the sound of voices, catching their words in confused snippets of dialogue. He narrowed his vision and shaded his eyes from the lights above his head. Lights he realized belonged to a ship.

A Republic prisoner transport.

Finally, he saw them, figures gathered underneath the hull of the large vessel. Someone was on the ground, their hands bound behind their back.

Obi-Wan moved closer, his heart beginning to race in his chest. Something was very wrong here, and he realized why as he got close enough to make out the figures. Clone troopers surrounded the kneeling form, and Obi-Wan felt an unpleasant jolt go up his spine when he recognized the last figure.

Bane looked up at his captors as they said something else to him, the clone’s words oddly muffled, and then he seemed to sigh as he closed his eyes. His bony shoulders, normally pulled slightly back in confidence (and often arrogance), were now slumped in defeat.

But the look on his face was the most disturbing thing to Obi-Wan. It was unequivocally a look of _relief._

The trooper held out his hand and another soldier gave him a handheld blaster. He aimed the weapon at the back of the bounty hunter’s bowed head.

_“No!”_ Obi-Wan cried out, reaching his hand out as if he could stop the execution from this distance. But no one seemed to hear him or even know he was there, and he was forced to watch as the trooper pulled the trigger.

Bane fell forward, crumpling to the ground in a broken heap. The only movement after that was the wisp of steam rising from the barrel of the blaster.

Obi-Wan bolted upright with a cry on his lips, his throat tight as he looked around the room in panic.

No troopers. No lifeless Bane, either. Just his dimly lit, sparsely-decorated room. He shuddered and rubbed the sweat-slicked hair off of his forehead, trying to catch his breath. His chest heaved up and down beneath his thin shirt which clung to him like a second skin.

It hadn’t been the first time Obi-Wan had woken up screaming after dreaming of an execution he couldn’t stop. He’d been plagued by nightmares for weeks since Satine’s murder.

This was the first night he hadn’t dreamed about her, but about someone else.

No. Not a dream. It had felt too real to be a dream. The tangy, sharp scent of the air, the cool night breeze against his skin. No… it hadn’t been a dream. It had been a vision, revealed to him through the Force.

Obi-Wan hurried out of bed and got dressed in his robes at record speed. The sun was just beginning to peek through the columns of skyscrapers through his window, and he ran through his mind who would be awake at this hour.

Master Yoda, probably. Perhaps Mace. Kit would still be sound asleep, as he had arrived a day earlier fresh from the battlefield. Or perhaps _fresh_ wasn’t the best word to describe him or any of the Jedi Masters. They were all running on fumes at that point, which was probably why he shouldn’t have been surprised when Luminara was the only one there when he arrived in the Temple communications center. She was slightly bent forward, studying a map of a system under siege by the Separatists.

There truly was never a time for them to rest.

“Good morning, Master Kenobi,” she greeted politely, turning away from the holomap as she appraised him. “You’re up early.”

“Yes, well, there’s a reason for that,” he said while running a hand through his unkempt hair. Damn, he’d forgotten to even groom himself. “I need to…”

He trailed off, caught off-guard trying to explain exactly what had just happened. Force visions were complicated things at the best of times, and led one down a path fraught with danger at worst. They were often unreliable, but what was more important than that, they usually centered on people or events that were important to a Jedi. Things that were at the forefront of their mind.

How would he explain to the Council that he was having visions of _Cad Bane?_

“Yes, Obi-Wan?” She watched him patiently, but he didn’t miss the glint of curiosity in her eyes. It wasn’t often someone caught Obi-Wan at a loss for words, looking so ruffled in the early hours of the morning.

“I need to speak with Cad Bane,” Obi-Wan finally admitted after rubbing the back of his neck. If he could figure out _why_ a squad of troopers would execute a Republic prisoner, perhaps he could prevent it without having to confide in his fellow Jedi. The thought should have filled him with guilt, but his sense of urgency left no room for it. He couldn’t get the image of Bane collapsing, his body limp and unmoving, out of his mind.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” she responded evenly.

His throat tightened so fast he nearly choked.

“What? Why?”

“The trooper escort has already left,” Luminara informed him as she pulled up an official document on the holoscreen. “He’s been transferred to the prison planet, Worath.”

“Transferred?” Thank the Force that the shock running through him made his tone void of emotion, calm, because Obi-Wan was the farthest thing from it. “On whose authority?”

Luminara peered closer at the document, a thoughtful finger tapping against her chin as she read, “It has the Senate Seal of Approval. It either came from the Senate or the Chancellor himself. I am unsure as to which.”

It was impossible. Bane had only been in their custody for _less than a day._ The Jedi hadn’t decided on the matter, and the Senate certainly never decided on anything so quickly. That left the Chancellor’s office as the responsible party who gave the order.

“But… we were in the middle of working out the terms for Bane’s deal!” Now a little color came back into Obi-Wan’s tone, causing Luminara to raise an elegant brow at him.

“If I must hazard a guess…” she observed while looking back up at the screen, “I would say the Chancellor did not wish to form an official agreement with a known criminal. Especially one as notorious as Cad Bane. Perhaps he felt consigning the bounty hunter to Worath would send a message to others who would try a similar tactic. That no clemency would be granted to those who profit from the suffering of others.”

If that’s the message the Chancellor wished to portray, then he could not have picked a more perfect punishment. Worath was one of the most brutal incarceration worlds that existed in the galaxy, and all of its occupants were permanent “residents.” No one who was sent to Worath ever left. At least, not while they still drew breath.

As much as her words made sense, Obi-Wan didn’t entirely subscribe to Luminara’s explanation. Something hadn’t felt right from the beginning, and for the Chancellor to issue an order to have the bounty hunter sent away so quickly? Obi-Wan was beginning to suspect it was the Chancellor himself who had remanded Bane out of Jedi custody and secreted him away into the military base.

He would have to figure it out later. For now, he had to move. And quickly.

“Thank you, Luminara. Tell the Council I will be off-world for the rest of the day. I have some business to attend to.”

Luminara gave him another eyebrow quirk but didn’t question him further, instead slightly bowing her head in acknowledgement and farewell. Obi-Wan had left the room before she’d straightened her posture.

If it had been a Force vision about anyone else, Obi-Wan would have taken a Jedi diplomatic ship and explained his actions later. This particular situation, however, was fraught with pitfalls and traps.

His past… _interactions_ … with the bounty hunter complicated things. The fact Bane was going to be executed by GAR personnel complicated things further. He had no idea what would happen if— _when_ —he got to his designation, but at least he knew where he was going. He’d recognized those glittering grey walls and blue gemstones from a place in his youth, long, long ago.

The problem left was _how_ to get there. If he took a Republic vessel, it would have navigation logs and records. There would be a clear trail for where he went and what he did. It was protocol, and typically, Obi-Wan was glad to have it there, but not this time. This time, he would be going into unknown territory and he was unsure who was friend or foe.

Obi-Wan needed a ship that wouldn’t be tracked. And in order to do that, he would need to visit an old friend.

_“Obi-Wan!”_ yelled a boisterous voice once the Jedi entered the diner.

So much for subtle entrances.

“Hello, Dex,” he answered back, smiling despite himself. “It’s been a while, my friend.”

“That it has!” the old Besalisk responded with a deep, belly-laugh, grabbing the Jedi around the middle and embracing him tightly.

Obi-Wan struggled to breathe until he let go, but honestly, he didn’t mind Dex’s enthusiasm. It was a breath of fresh air after the polite-but-distant personal interactions in the Temple.

“Stars above, haven’t _you_ aged since I last saw ya. I mean that as a compliment,” Dex added with a wink. “Very distinguished.”

“It’s all in the beard,” Obi-Wan answered, bringing forth another deep laugh from the diner owner as he stroked said beard. Then he lowered his voice into something more serious. “I don’t mean to be impolite, Dex, but I’m afraid this isn’t a social call.”

“Ooh,” Dex vocalized with clear interest. “Got more Jedi business for me to help with?”

Obi-Wan hesitated a fraction of a second, and then answered, “I need to borrow a ship.”

Dex narrowed his eyes in a way that was far too observant, and his grin turned sharp. _“Unofficial_ Jedi business, then. You in some kind of trouble?”

“Not exactly,” Obi-Wan answered, pulling his robes tighter around himself as Dex led him toward the back of the diner.

“Someone else in trouble?” Dex asked while looking over his shoulder at him. “Someone you don’t want on your people’s scopes?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the smile under his beard and said, “You don’t miss a thing, Dex,” which caused the Besalisk to chuckle.

“A dull-eyed prospector is a starving prospector. Now what kinda ship are you lookin’ for?” They were standing outside now, behind the diner for some privacy, though Obi-Wan much preferred the kitchen. The smell was more tolerable, anyway.

“Something reliable and inconspicuous.”

“Hmmm,” Dex hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his own facial hairs with his fingers. “I normally wouldn’t do this, but seeing as how yer an old friend, I suppose I can part with my personal starship.”

_And having a Jedi in your debt doesn’t hurt either,_ Obi-Wan internally mused, but he couldn’t fault Dex for working the deal into his favor. Dex was sharp enough to see Obi-Wan was desperate, but he was also kind enough to not take advantage of the situation unfairly.

“Dexter, you are a saint,” Obi-Wan said with a grin. And he meant it. This was the first break Obi-Wan had caught since this whole business had begun.

“Oh, you talker,” Dex responded with a chuckle. “You know you can ask anything of ol’ Dex, even if you can’t talk about your mysterious Jedi missions. Just bring my ship back in one piece. She’s probably older than you at this point.”

“I will,” Obi-Wan responded with a smile, embracing the Basilisk one more time. “Thank you, my friend.”

Dex told him the location of the spaceport where he stored his ship, a part of town Obi-Wan knew would was cheap and discreet. He doubted anyone would recognize him there, which was all the better.

“Obi-Wan, before you go…”

“Yes?” the Jedi asked, pausing as he turned to leave.

“I gotta ask. Just for curiosity’s sake…”

Dex met his eye, a look there that was entirely too shrewd to be just mere curiosity.

“Is this business… or personal?”

Obi-Wan’s smile began to fade as he thought back over his history with Bane in its complicated entirety. From the theft of Force-sensitive younglings, to holding the Senate Building hostage, to saving Obi-Wan’s life in the Box, and finally to the night on the _Delano_ that left him confused and conflicted.

Obi-Wan’s answer was given with a grim firmness that bespoke the heavy weight of his responsibility, duty and his own complicated thoughts.

“Both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Dex. You the real MVP.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter today, but the next chapter will have the reunion we've all been waiting for.
> 
> Stay safe, cuties.

As Obi-Wan stared out the cockpit window into the blue-white blurry tendrils of hyperspace, he reflected on the irony of the situation. A cruel irony that he did not thank the Force for providing.

He had woken up for weeks, screaming out Satine’s name after dreaming of her death.

Maul, choking her in the air.

Maul, running her through with the Darksaber.

Obi-Wan, cradling her in his arms, helpless to do anything but watch as she told him she loved him, one last time.

And now, after Obi-Wan had seen a vision of Bane’s death, he was reminded of Satine again. Not just because of the parallels of his dreams, but because he had finally remembered where he had seen the quarry in his vision.

More years ago than he cared to remember, Satine, Obi-Wan, and Master Qui-Gon had been hunted by a rival faction of Mandalorians through one of those ore pits. Draboon was the only one world he knew of where lapis was mined in such vast quantities.

The memories of Satine were not so fresh that the pain was sharp, but his heart still ached. The knowledge that Bane might die where Obi-Wan had once tread as a Padawan was unsettling. Nothing that had happened in the past day made sense, and Obi-Wan having a Force vision did nothing to ease his nerves. Anakin and Ahsoka were the ones who had premonitions, not Obi-Wan.

Not since his youth, anyway.

Inevitably, as happened during the hours trapped on a ship in hyperspace, Obi-Wan’s thoughts turned to places he wished them not to go. He tried meditation, but once again, silence and peace was out of his reach. Instead, his normally well-honed mind decided to drudge up all the worries and concerns that had been let loose during the last day.

It was not lost on him that they all centered on the bounty hunter.

Obi-Wan couldn’t figure him out. Since the beginning, Bane had surprised him time and time again. Despite his twists and plots and murderous tendencies, Bane was quite capable of veering off course and acting in unexpected ways.

His rescue of Hardeen in the Box, for example. Certainly, Bane didn’t know it’d been Obi-Wan, but it’s not like Bane had been close companions with Hardeen either. They’d eventually reached a sort of mutual respect, but for Bane to go out of his way to save him? It didn’t make any sense.

_If yer gonna kill him, do it like a man._

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the shiver that traveled down his spine. He remembered how he’d sensed Bane’s anger, shining brightly through the Force. The bounty hunter’s intense hatred of Moralo Eval, the mastermind behind the Box, was only one part of the equation. Bane had seemed genuinely infuriated that Eval had nearly killed Hardeen, as if the act had been a personal affront to the bounty hunter himself.

And then, of course, there was the _Delano_. Bane had tricked him, and in such an unnecessary way that it made the Jedi question his real motives. Why had Bane visited Obi-wan in his quarters and gone through such an elaborate ruse? It would have been far simpler to wait in hiding while he cracked the necessary codes to override the ship’s navicomputer, and then grab the Sith artifact with no one the wiser. Obi-Wan and Anakin would have been far too late to stop him.

Instead… Bane had sought him out, seduced him, and then rendered Obi-Wan unconscious so he couldn’t follow. But why? It was one of the many questions Obi-Wan wanted answered when he caught up to Bane.

He _would_ catch up to Bane; there was no doubt in his mind. And when he did, Bane would have much to answer for.

When Obi-Wan came out of hyperspace above the planet, he took the controls and guided the ship down to its surface. He didn’t bother heading to the spaceport—if his vision was correct, the prison transport would be sitting in the middle of an ore pit, bypassing the meager mining towns completely.

There was only one area of Draboon where the lapis mines were located, but Obi-Wan still felt an unusual amount of anxiety. Just because he might know _where_ the vision would take place, he didn’t know _when_ the events would unfold. It could be hours from now. Or it could have happened already. Bane could be currently buried at the bottom of a quarry, too late for Obi-Wan’s help.

He pushed the thoughts aside with great difficulty. Obi-Wan had to believe he wasn’t too late. He had to believe the Force wouldn’t have granted him this vision just to send him on a wild bantha-chase that ended in Bane’s death.

Obi-Wan’s chest tightened at the sight of the dark forests coming into view. It was impossible to see the planet and not think of Satine and his master, Qui-Gon. Both gone now. Dead at the hands of a raving monster.

He released his anxiety into the Force as he focused on the readout on his screens. There were many lapis mines on the planet, too many to check one by one, so Obi-Wan had to trust that his recognition of this particular mine had been correct.

For a brief moment, he wished he had Quinlan Vos with him. Not a sentiment that struck him often, but the man’s ability to track through the Force was legendary. Of course, Obi-Wan didn’t currently have any items that belonged to Bane, so Quinlan wouldn’t have been able to track the bounty hunter, anyway.

 _Could use yerself,_ he almost could hear the bounty hunter say. _Seein’ as you belong to me._

Obi-Wan shook off the ridiculous thought. He didn’t belong to anyone. He was simply trying to stop an unlawful execution. That was all.

 _Sure, sure,_ the low, amused voice answered.

“I suppose we do this the old fashioned-way,” Obi-Wan said to himself with a sigh. As Dex’s ship descended into the atmosphere on autopilot, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to expand, his consciousness reaching out toward the quarry where the vision had taken place.

Obi-Wan was startled to feel Bane’s presence almost immediately. It was strong, incredibly so, but something was also wrong with it. It pulsated with an aura that he could only describe as _bleeding black-red_ , and over this connection Obi-Wan could feel the oily slick quality of the dark side of the Force.

As quickly as possible without crashing the ship, Obi-Wan landed far enough away from the mineral pit that he wouldn’t be scanned by the prison transport. Obi-Wan could see the ship in question, cradled within the bowels of the abandoned lapis pit.

As soon as his ship touched down, Obi-Wan rose from his seat and grabbed his helmet, placing it over his head as he hit the button to lower the docking ramp.

He had lost his Rako Hardeen outfit on Mandalore, but he had purchased another for such undercover missions. A scruffy old fur-lined vest, a jacket with a hood, and light armor plating over his groin and shoulders. The helmet was smaller and sleeker but undeniably had the Mandalorian aesthetic that he had grown partial to.

Basically, almost exactly like his old bounty hunter outfit, expect it now had a hood he could slip over his helmet. Obi-Wan found he liked that particular style and he didn’t see a point in changing it now. Besides… he couldn’t deny he would take a small amount of pleasure of seeing the surprise on Bane’s face as he recognized the familiarity of the outfit.

Of course, that was assuming the bounty hunter still lived.

Obi-Wan took off toward the pit at a run, mentally willing Bane to hold on and not say or do anything to get himself killed before the Jedi Master could pull him out of this mess.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bane refers to himself by his last name because he's ridiculous.

Cad Bane wasn’t entirely surprised when they came out of hyperspace earlier than they should have. Not surprised either when the planet below wasn’t Worath. His day, hell, his _life_ had gone to shit eons ago, so why not add some more fuckery to this whole situation?

“Get up,” the clone said sharply, smacking his shoulder with the butt of a rifle. Bane did what he was told, a slight smirk on his lips as he rose to his feet.

“So it’s gonna be like dhat, eh?” he mused. “Take yer two pounds of flesh before you throw me in lockdown?”

“Shut it,” the clone growled, knocking the rifle into Bane’s shoulder again to get him moving. He rolled the shoulder slowly, as if to say he wasn’t impressed. Which, he wasn’t.

“Why not have yer beat-down in the ship? Don’t need to go and make a big deal of it on my account,” Bane remarked smoothly as they led him down the prison transport ramp. He squinted his eyes against the bright surface ship-lights, appraising his odd surroundings. It looked like some kind of abandoned mining operation.

Isolated. Unpatrolled. The perfect place to dispose of a body.

Suspicion and alertness made his heart accelerate, but he showed none of his wariness on the outside.

“We don’t want to make a mess of our ship.”

The blow came fast and hard, striking Bane in the stomach with a plastoid armored fist. The breath was sucked from his lungs and he stumbled, bent over but still standing. He gave a wheezing chuckle, refusing to fall so easily to just one blow, even though his midsection contracted in pain.

“I can appreciate good housekeeping,” Bane responded, giving his captors a leering grin. Another blow struck him, this time to the face, causing his jaw to make an alarming cracking noise. A second clone kicked him in the back of his legs, forcing him onto the ground, while another kneed him in the face.

Helpless with his arms still cuffed behind his back, Bane curled into a ball and tried to protect himself as much as possible from the merciless blows of the clones. They didn’t hold back, and he wondered if this was how they meant to kill him, by simply beating him to death. That _did_ surprise him. Brute, violent force of a defenseless target wasn’t usually the clones’ style.

Eventually the assault stopped but the pain continued, various points of his body throbbing and joining together in a chorus of agony. The parts of him that hadn’t been bruised before, given to him courtesy of his clone prison guards, where going to later, turning dark like Bane was nothing more than a rotten piece of fruit.

He somehow found it in himself to give a small, breathless laugh. _Rotten fruit._ That’s basically what his existence amounted to.

Bane let loose a defiant growl when he was grabbed by the arm and dragged onto his knees. He knew what was coming. He tried to rise to his feet but was immediately shoved back onto his shins. Sometime during the beating he had lost his hat, and he felt naked without it.

“If yer gonna kill me, least let me die on my feet like a man,” he rasped, spitting hot green blood out of his bleeding mouth.

“You’re not a man,” responded the tinny, hostile voice of a clone through his bucket. “You’re a piece of trash and you will be disposed of as such.”

Another clone spoke, the same voice holding the same hatred but from a different body.

“You deserve to suffer. To spend the rest of your life in a cage for what you’ve done. But you won’t. You’ll just escape again and our brothers will never have justice. They’ll never have peace.”

He bared his teeth when he felt the muzzle of a pistol pressed to the back of his head. Unnecessary in order to kill him, but the clone wanted him to feel it anyway.

“That’s why you have to die, bounty hunter scum. This is for Koho and Denal.”

Bane closed his eyes, his shoulder slumping as he felt something… unexpected. Something he couldn’t remember ever really feeling in his entire life. Closure. An end. All of his actions had been tallied and now they would be levied against him.

Finally, he could rest.

Instead of the oblivion Bane had expected (and craved, if he was being honest with himself), he heard one of the clones cry out in surprise, followed by the sound of something smashing into plastoid armor.

Bane opened his eyes and looked up in time to see the clone in front of him topple over as another clone flew into him.

_What in the fuck?_

Bane looked over his shoulder to see the most confusing scene he could have imagined. He blinked, both nauseous and lightheaded form the brutal beating he’d just endured, but his disorientation couldn’t explain what he was seeing now.

A man, by all accounts a bounty hunter, was making short work of the clones. Dodging under their fists, avoiding their blasterfire as if he could predict it, the figure dismantled the entire squad of clones without taking a single scratch. He punched, jabbed, kicked, and used their momentum to flip them into each other wish such grace and ease it was almost pretty.

But there was something familiar about the way the bounty hunter moved. The liquid grace and flexibility. Bane had seen it before.

And there was something about that outfit…

The figure walked over to him once his work was done. The clones were on the ground either unconscious or moaning in pain, and Bane was so taken aback all he could do was stare.

It was the helmet that made him remember.

 _“Hardeen?”_ he uttered in a painfully raspy voice.

Bane knew he was in trouble when his vision began to swim in and out of focus and the nausea intensified. He must have been worse off than he thought, especially considering he was clearly hallucinating.

The figure cocked his head at Bane, as if confused himself, and then he reached down and helped Bane to his feet. Bane wobbled, too woozy to knock him away, and he was further surprised when his rescuer removed his binders.

Bane looked up at him again, narrowing his eyes to force them to focus. Why had the stupid planet decided to go spinning off of its axis?

“Bane? Bane, can you hear me?”

Ah. Not Hardeen, then. Never Hardeen. Always him. Always _Kenobi._

“Yeah, I hear you,” he growled, batting away the Jedi’s hand, embarrassed from his confusion. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”

The helmeted Jedi’s tone sounded a tad too amused as he said, “Looks like I’m rescuing you. Now, come on.”

Before Bane could protest or demand further explanation, Kenobi took off toward the wall of the pit, where he would no doubt scale it like some kind of spiced-up monkey-lizard.

Or maybe he would just jump the entire thing. Jedi were unhinged like that.

Bane scowled, grumbling to himself as he reached down to pick up his hat. He winced as he did so, but ignored the stabbing pain as he dusted off the brim, pleased to see it hadn’t been trampled in the fight.

The one good thing out of this goddamn bitch of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bane, almost dying: Disappointing but not surprising


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back for real! Time for that space road trip!
> 
> Y'all leave the funniest comments I stg. No fandom is as funny as this one. It's to compensate for all the crying we do, I think.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Medical stuff, blood, whump

Bane must have been injured worse than Obi-Wan thought, because his pace was slow and careful, his face tight and focused. He’d seen that look before, all too often on his own face after particularly vicious battles.

One thing was clear. There was no way the bounty hunter would be able to scale the cliff, atop which awaited the ship.

“Hop on,” Obi-Wan instructed him, slightly bending forward so he would be able to climb onto his back. “It’ll be faster.”

“Sure,” Bane quipped with a growl to his words. “Why not. Day can’t get much worse.”

_Now, that is worrying,_ Obi-Wan thought as Bane climbed onto his back, wrapping his thin arms around his neck and his long legs around his waist. The fact Bane didn’t protest just for the sake of being difficult was a sign that he truly wasn’t well.

“Hang on,” Obi-Wan told him over one shoulder, hooking his arms under Bane’s knees. The bounty hunter clamped one long-fingered hand on the top of his hat, and the Jedi Master almost smiled. How Bane managed to keep hold of that awful hat over the entirety of the war was one of the great mysteries of the galaxy.

As Obi-Wan scaled the cliff face, he used the aid of the Force to quicken his pace and lengthen his jumps. He didn’t opt to let the bounty hunter go when they reached the top, instead tightening his hold and taking off at a run through the nighttime forest filled with dark, stunted trees.

Bane didn’t yell at him to let him down either, another sign Obi-Wan should be worried.

“Where’d you dig up this rust heap?”

Hearing Bane’s voice, even in the form of a complaint when they were in view of Dex’s light freighter, was a relief to Obi-Wan.

“From a friend of mine who was kind enough to lend it to me. So perhaps be grateful for a change?” Obi-Wan replied airily, fully expecting Bane to be no such thing. He slightly bent down and released his hold on Bane’s knees, allowing the bounty hunter to slide from his back. Obi-Wan had to immediately turn around and grab him by the shoulders when it looked like Bane was going to collapse into the dirt.

“Would you quit,” Bane snapped as he struggled out of Obi-Wan’s grip. “I don’t need yer help.”

“Ah, that scene we left behind says otherwise,” Obi-Wan responded while thumbing over his shoulder, but the bounty hunter was already making his way up the ramp and didn’t see the gesture.

“Yeah. Funny how you have a knack for showin’ up at just the right moment, Kenobi,” Bane responded as he plopped into the co-pilot’s chair.

Obi-Wan noted the bitterness to the bounty hunter’s words, and while he shouldn’t have been, he was surprised that after everything, Bane was still suspicious of him.

“You can’t seriously believe I was involved with this.” He removed his helmet before sitting in the pilot’s seat, glancing sideways at the bounty hunter. Bane looked even worse now, covered in dark green, nearly-black bruises.

Bane, apparently, wasn’t convinced of Obi-Wan’s innocence. He held his arms tightly over his chest as he stared out the viewport. Seeing that it was pointless to wait for a response, Obi-Wan powered up the ship and began to cycle up the navicomputer.

“If you weren’t involved, how’d you know?” Bane finally asked, still refusing to look in Obi-Wan’s direction. “How’d you know what dhose clones were gonna do? Were you followin’ me?”

“Hardly,” Obi-Wan responded as he gently guided the old freighter into the air, turned it, and eased it toward the upper atmosphere.

“Then how—“

“That doesn’t matter right now, Bane,” Obi-Wan snapped with uncharacteristic shortness. He took a deep breath, running one hand through his helmet-mussed hair as he gathered his thoughts and patience. “Right now, we need to get somewhere safe. Do you know a location where we can go until I can sort this mess?”

Bane didn’t respond for so long that Obi-Wan turned to look at him, finding the bounty hunter actually gawking at him.

“You tellin’ me you didn’t even have a getaway plan? Or at least a safe house?” Bane sounded halfway between offended and incredulous. “What kinda amateur operation you runnin’ here, Kenobi?”

“The kind that succeeds,” Obi-Wan said tersely. “Even if it was a bit improvised. You’re _welcome,_ by the way.”

Bane actually pouted, sticking his bottom lip out as he slumped further into the co-pilot’s chair, and Obi-Wan had to press his mouth into a tight line to keep from smirking. The word _cute_ was not one that came to mind in the same sentence as Cad Bane, but there was something childish about the gesture, and it made him feel oddly fond for the bounty hunter.

“Fine. I got a place we can crash.” After he fired off a string of numbers for Obi-Wan to enter into the navicomputer, as well as a code that would disarm his security system as soon as they arrived, Bane added, “You won’t find the Sith artifact dhere, so don’t go gettin’ yer hopes up.”

Now it was Obi-Wan’s turn to experience a shock. He had, in the rush to save Bane from certain death, completely forgotten about the artifact. Ostensibly, it was the reason he was chasing the bounty hunter to begin with, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind since he’d left Coruscant.

“We can talk about that later,” Obi-Wan finally answered, turning back to look at the stars as they appeared through the viewport. “What I want to know is _why_ those troopers were going to execute you. Do you have any idea?”

“From the sounds of it,” Bane remarked slowly, “dhey wanted to even deh score. Can’t say I blame ‘em, really.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. The clones were disciplined, honorable, and most of all, they followed orders. There was only a small handful he could name that had gone rogue over the course of the war, but an entire squad? It didn’t make sense. But then again, a lot wasn’t adding up lately.

“Those troopers should never have deviated from the flight plan,” he mused more to himself than to the bounty hunter. “They certainly shouldn’t have tried to execute an unarmed prisoner.”

“Sure, sure,” Bane said with disinterest, echoing the words that Obi-Wan had earlier heard in his own thoughts. The Jedi glanced over in time to see Bane tip the brim of his hat over his eyes. Apparently, he had decided to take a nap.

Obi-Wan slightly shook his head and turned back to the viewport, watching as the stars elongated into the white-and-blue smears of hyperspace. It was said if you stared at the void nothingness of hyperspace too long, you could go mad.

Fortunately for Obi-Wan, he was half-convinced he was mad already.

What was he _doing_ out here? Saving a notorious bounty hunter from the soldiers in an army he himself led? How had the universe gotten so upside-down? He had hoped the Force would clarify things for him after he had rescued Bane, but now, Obi-Wan was more confused and directionless than ever.

Silence passed between them, the only sounds coming from the hum of the old vessel. Obi-Wan was absorbed in his own thoughts while Bane was no doubt distracted by his. Or maybe he really was sleeping. Obi-Wan chanced a glance at him, frowning when he saw the Duros had his long legs up on the console, one ankle elegantly crossed over the other.

Obi-Wan was just about to tell him to put his feet down, that this wasn’t some _back alley cantina_ where he could _do as he pleased_ , but his mouth snapped shut when he noticed the dark green liquid pooling from the bottom of his vest.

“Bane.” His voice sounded oddly calm to his own ears. “You’re bleeding.”

“Mmm?” the bounty hunter hummed groggily, indicating he had indeed dozed off.

Obi-Wan slipped from his chair and knelt at Bane’s side, trying to get a better look at what he was seeing. He touched two gloved fingers to the liquid and they came away dark green.

Bane immediately shoved his hand away, scowling. Obi-Wan ignored his hostility, too concerned by his grisly discovery.

“Why are you bleeding?”

Had the clone troopers stabbed Bane? He couldn’t remember any sharp instruments being involved in either the vision or the actual scene Obi-Wan had interrupted.

“None of yer business— _aak!”_

Bane gave an undignified squawk as Obi-Wan grabbed and pulled him up from the chair, half-dragging him out of the cockpit. The Jedi deposited him on the single berth of the ship, forcing Bane to sit on his edge as he looked around the unfamiliar interior.

“I’m sure he keeps a medpac around here somewhere.”

“Leave it be, Kenobi,” Bane warned in an acidic tone.

“Can’t have you go bleeding to death, now can I?” he responded with a hint of amusement.

“What do you care?” Bane growled, pulling the brim of his hat further down over his eyes. “Yer not gettin’ the Sith jewel either way.”

“You are the one who keeps bringing it up, not I,” Obi-Wan coolly stated, even as he noted what Bane had said. Sith _jewel?_ Now, that was interesting. The _Delano’s_ manifest obviously hadn’t covered the specificity of the stolen artifact, so that little detail was new to Obi-Wan’s knowledge.

The Jedi Master spotted his quarry and pulled down the medpac from an overhead bin, wincing at the collection of dust on its surface. It would be a miracle if the bacta hadn’t expired.

“It’s better than nothing, I suppose,” Obi-Wan remarked as he set the kit next to Bane. He opened it, somewhat satisfied by the state of the contents, and then turned to Bane while crossing his arms. “All right. Let me see it.”

“See what?” he asked with a suggestive leer. Obi-Wan fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You know what I want to see _._ Stop stalling and show me your wound.”

Bane gave him a look that Anakin would have referred to as a “stink eye” before he unzipped his vest. Obi-Wan didn’t miss the wince in his face as he did so.

“Bodysuit too,” he prompted when the bounty hunter hesitated. Obi-Wan had tugged off his gloves and had begun to clean his hands with a container of sanitizer from the medpac.

“So eager to get my clothes off, Kenobi?” the bounty hunter replied without any real heat to his voice. He sounded tense, and Obi-Wan belatedly realized Bane simply did not wish to make himself vulnerable before the Jedi. Despite the fact Obi-Wan had rescued him for being executed, Bane still didn’t trust him. Understandable, since the Duros hated him.

_But_ does _he hate me?_ Obi-Wan wondered as he watched Bane separate the bottom and top halves of his body suit. In all honesty, he hadn’t a clue what Bane thought about him now.

The thoughts swirling around Obi-Wan’s mind fled as Bane rolled up the top half of his blacks to his chest. Ugly bruises covered his flesh, giving him a horrible dappled pattern on his blue skin, but worse was the deep gash just under his right ribcage. It had bled enough to soak through the edge of the body suit halves. Obi-Wan knelt to get a closer look and was startled by what he found.

_No… this isn’t a gash,_ he thought with dawning horror. _It’s a surgical incision._

“Bane… What is this?” he asked quietly, looking up into the bounty hunter’s face. Oddly, Bane seemed to be unable to meet his eye as he responded with his usually barbarous tongue.

“A papercut.”

Obi-Wan scowled, beginning to feel real anger.

“I’m trying to help you,” he almost growled in an attempt to keep his voice calm and even. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. Clearly, you’re embroiled with something that’s gotten you into trouble, you’re out of your depth, and you’re going to wind up dead or worse if you continue down this path.”

“Don’t preach to _me_ , Kenobi,” Bane snarled, his lips pulled back to bare his sharp canines. “I’m not one of yer wayward Padawans.”

Bane tried to gain his feet but Obi-Wan pushed him back onto the berth, caging him in as he placed his hands on either side of Bane’s hips. The Jedi Master leveled a heavy glare at him, refusing to move. Bane stared back, crimson eyes a hair wider than usual.

“No more lies, Bane. No more evading answers with half-truths and distractions.” Obi-Wan paused, an idea suddenly popping into his head. “Are you still interested in keeping your deal with the Order?”

Bane blinked at him. It was a rare day when the bounty hunter was caught off-guard by anything.

“My deal?”

“Protection in exchange for the Sith artifact and information on your employer.”

The bounty hunter gave him a slight scowl. “You can’t make dhat promise.”

“Actually, I can,” Obi-Wan said with a small smirk. He slightly leaned back so he wasn’t so completely in Bane’s personal space, but he was still close enough to look him in the eye. “I’m a Council member and can act on behalf of the Order leadership when need be. I’m willing to uphold our part of the deal. That is, if you’re still interested.”

“I also remember askin’ for a pardon,” Bane said, glowering up at him. “Unless you were elected Chancellor Supreme in deh last few hours, dhat’s not a promise you can make good on.”

Well. Bane had him there.

“I’ll… have to work on that part.” Before Bane could add another sour comment, Obi-Wan quickly said, “In the meantime, I _can_ and _will_ protect you. At least until I can get this sorted out. And in exchange, you give me the Sith artifact and the information regarding the identity of your employer.”

Obi-Wan barely got the words out before Bane responded.

“No deal.”

The bounty hunter leaned forward until he was inches away. The Jedi was able to feel the warm breath on his face, but Obi-Wan refused to budge.

“I got a better idea. You dump me at our next stop, go back to yer blessed Temple, and forget dhis ever happened.”

“I don’t think so, Bane,” he responded smoothly. “You were so eager to make a deal before. What’s changed?”

Obi-Wan didn’t expect the bounty hunter to lean back and fold his arms over his chest, but he did, looking oddly pensive. After a long moment of silence, he didn’t think he was going to get an answer, but Bane finally sighed and said:

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“You have a deal. But I’m changin’ deh terms.” Bane gave him a look through narrowed, crimson eyes, staring at the Jedi Master as if he was already preparing for him to argue against him. “I give you deh artifact and you leave me deh hell alone. It’s deh best deal yer gonna get, so I suggest you take it.”

“Bane…” Obi-Wan slightly shook his head. “I can’t just _let_ you go.”

“You’ve done it before, Kenobi.”

“That was different!”

“Don’t see how,” Bane said with a careless shrug. “Either way, if yer not gonna give me a pardon, dhen deh least you can do is turn me loose.”

When Obi-Wad made to protest again, Bane snapped, “Do you want yer Sith artifact or not?”

“Of course, but I cannot allow you to leave my custody.” Obi-Wan pressed his lips in a line as Bane narrowed his eyes further. “The Sith artifact in exchange for my protection until this issue is resolved. That’s the best deal _you’re_ going to get, so I suggest _you_ take it.”

They glared at each other for a long, drawn-out span of time, the air between them heavy with tension. For someone who was nicknamed “The Negotiator,” Obi-Wan sure seemed to be on the losing end of Bane’s demands more often than not. Then again, no one else was able to get under his skin like Bane did.

Finally, the bounty hunter moved, and in quite an unexpected way. He held out his hand and said in a low, smooth tone, “Deal.”

Obi-Wan appraised it for a moment before moving his hand forward to grip it firmly. Bane’s skin was cool and dry, and memories of what those fingers felt like against his skin came rushing to the forefront.

If Obi-Wan released his hand too quickly, Bane didn’t comment on it, but the Jedi thought he saw the shadow of a smirk tug on the corner of Bane’s mouth.

“Now, let’s get this wound taken care of, shall we?” Obi-Wan knelt next to Bane’s leg, examining the wound more closely. As he did so, he realized it was _sutured._ No one used sutures anymore, not since the invention of kolto, and with good reason. The bleeding had been caused by the sutures being ripped out of place.

“If I ask why you have a surgical incision that was closed using such outdated methods, would you tell me?” Obi-Wan purposefully phrased the question to allow Bane the option of not answering. He figured it would be a good test of his skills as a negotiator to get the bounty hunter to cooperate under his own volition. Not to mention if he was going to be babysitting Bane, it might go easier if he treated him less like a prisoner and more like a person under his protection.

“Not willingly,” Bane answered flatly, watching closely as Obi-Wan gently placed his fingers around the wound.

Obi-Wan sighed through his nose. He would just have to be patient, something that had always been difficult for him where Bane was concerned.

As he pulled a bacta patch from the kit, Obi-Wan wondered again why sutures had been used instead of a patch. It was nowhere near as effective, and—

Bane grabbed his wrist before he could pull open the packaging, and Obi-Wan looked up at him questioningly.

“Don’t use dhat,” he said, almost nervous. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows until Bane released his wrist. The bounty hunter looked away, his lips twisting into an unhappy frown. “There’s a medical droid where we’re goin’. It’ll take care of everything.”

Instead of arguing the point with Bane, such as _why the hell_ he wouldn’t want to use bacta, Obi-Wan gestured at the wound and said, “I can’t just leave it open.”

“If it bothers you so much, use a non-bacta patch,” Bane responded tiredly.

_That’s a new one,_ Obi-Wan thought as he pulled a non-stick bandage from the kit and placed it across the wound. He’d seen Bane be tired of _him_ , certainly, but never tired in general. Before, Bane would take every opportunity to argue with Obi-Wan, and he was giving in too easily now.

It reminded Obi-Wan of the eerie scene at the lapis pit. Bane hadn’t even tried to put up a fight. He had just stayed on his knees, waiting for his own execution with an air of finality.

Just another item to add to the list of _Concerning Things Bane Is Doing._

Obi-Wan placed another layer of bandage over the first, and then wrapped the circumference of Bane’s waist in gauze. Depending on how far away their destination was (and it hadn’t looked too far, thankfully), he might have to change it again, but it would keep the wound from freely bleeding at least.

The bounty hunter didn’t offer any lurid remarks as Obi-Wan snipped the end of the gauze. No jokes about being in compromising positions, no prodding banter about the Jedi’s ‘wandering hands.’

He felt oddly disappointed.

“An injection of bacta would help with those bruises,” Obi-Wan offered, also needing to break the awkward silence.

“No bacta,” Bane repeated, his expression oddly blank.

Obi-Wan frowned. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

He closed the medpac, stowed it back in the bin, and turned toward the refresher, wanting to wash the green blood from his hands before it dried.

“If I step away for a few moments, you won’t try and fly us into a star, will you?” Obi-Wan asked with false cheer.

“You’d be so lucky,” Bane tossed back at him as he rolled down his bodysuit and zipped up his vest.

“Don’t I know it,” Obi-Wan mused before shutting the door behind him. He immediately went to the sink and put his hands under the facet, sighing when they didn’t turn on automatically.

“Really, Dex? I thought you were exaggerating when you said this ship predated my birth.”

Obi-Wan found the button that turned on the water and grimaced as the green began to leech from his skin. It wasn’t that the color of the blood disturbed him, exactly. In fact, green was less alarming than red, but he still didn’t like the idea of his hands being covered in Bane’s blood.

_Figuratively or literally,_ Obi-Wan thought wryly.

He washed up as quickly as he could, pausing to look in the mirror before he dried his hands. He frowned, spotting a speck of green on his cheek, and he washed that off too before drying his hands and returning to the cockpit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to know your opinion on something very important.
> 
> The way I write Bane's accent: love it or hate it?
> 
> If I could start over at the beginning I probably wouldn't write the accent again. I've had a couple people say they hated it, and that's fair, but I'm going to keep using it for consistency sake. I made this bed, now I get to lie in it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your feedback everyone. Most of you liked Bane's accent, but other people made really good points such as how his accent can be difficult to read for non-native English speakers. It's not a point I ever considered before and I really appreciate the perspective.
> 
> I still want to keep Bane's accent the same for the rest of the story for consistency's sake, so I hope that's all right. I'll try to make Bane behave :) A lost cause, as Obi-Wan would say.
> 
> Enjoy!

When Obi-Wan entered the cockpit, he noted the wide brim of Bane’s hat poking around the edge of the co-pilot seat. He fought down the smile that wanted to form, finding it amusing that Bane would rather be in the cockpit with him than in the sleeping compartment.

The Jedi returned to the pilot seat, pulling his gloves back on. After that, he stared out at the swirling shapes of the non-space in front of him, not sure what to say to the bounty hunter beside him.

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), Bane didn’t seem to have the same issue, and he broke the silence quickly.

“How’d you know?”

“Know…?” Obi-Wan trailed off, wanting a more specific question before he tried to answer it. He slightly turned his head to watch Bane, but the bounty hunter merely stared out the cockpit viewport with his hands folded over his flat stomach.

“Know I was in dire straits, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan sighed. Where to start without sounding like he was lying or making up fantastical stories. Even for a Jedi, the events he had experienced had been strange.

“I saw it before it happened,” he spoke, deciding to simply tell Bane the truth. There was a very good chance the bounty hunter wouldn’t believe him anyway. “We refer to such things as Force visions. They’re often inaccurate, fiendishly difficult to interpret, but I received one last night after retiring to bed. I saw what was going to happen to you, and I acted on it.”

Bane snorted, an impressive feat considering he didn’t have a nose.

“You _dreamed_ about me?”

Obi-Wan could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. _That_ was the part Bane chose to focus on?

“I had a _vision_ in regards to your person,” he clarified. “I just… happened to be asleep at the time.”

“In other words, you were dreamin’ of me.”

The closed-lipped smile that spread across Bane’s face was… well, quite something. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him smile like that before, but it made his stomach churn in a distracting way.

“Regardless,” Obi-Wan pushed valiantly forward, “I witnessed your… execution. When I awoke and learned you were being transported to Worath, so suddenly and without consultation of the Council, I was sure the vision would happen, and soon. I recognized the location in the vision, and I… went to get you.”

“Leavin’ out a lotta detail from yer pretty story,” Bane said as he pulled a toothpick from a pouch on his belt, placing the object at the edge of his mouth. “You just happen to know ‘bout some hole in the ground on some backwater planet?”

“Draboon,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “The planet’s called Draboon. I’ve been there before. In my youth.”

Bane slightly turned his head, eyeing him now.

“More coincidences. Get enough of dhose together and it’s called a pattern.”

“Or the Force,” Obi-Wan interjected. Despite the fact Bane’s eyes were a solid crimson without visible pupils, he knew Bane had just rolled his eyes at him. “The Force _did_ lead me to you. For whatever reason I was given the vision, I knew I had to prevent your death.”

“So dhat’s why you came?” Bane asked. Obi-Wan frowned at the sudden frostiness to his voice. “Because yer blessed _Force_ told you to?”

“N-no, that’s not…” Obi-Wan sighed, understanding how what he had just said could come off as… well, callous. “It wasn’t the only reason. It was simply the right thing to do. You’re a prisoner of the Republic. You didn’t deserve to be executed, out in the middle of nowhere, in an ore pit.”

“Maybe dhat’s exactly what I deserve, Kenobi,” Bane responded so quietly that Obi-Wan almost didn’t catch it. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

He frowned at Bane’s uncharacteristically maudlin attitude.

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done,” the Jedi argued back. “Your fate is not to be decided by angry troopers, no matter how justified they feel their actions.”

“My fate’s to be decided by you, dhen?” The bounty hunter leveled a red glare at him, the corner of his lip curled to reveal a fang. “What do you plan to do with me after this oh-so darin’ rescue of yers and I hand over deh artifact? You gonna protect me forever?”

Bane scoffed derisively.

“Yer a smart boy, Kenobi. Surely you figured out this goes beyond a few pissed-off clones.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth… and closed it. He _had_ figured that out, but it didn’t make his path any clearer. He had contemplated taking Bane back to the Temple after this medical droid of Bane’s saw to his wounds, hoping to seek the guidance and assistance of the Council. But Obi-Wan couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was at play here, and it involved the Chancellor or the Senate. Maybe other branches of the military as well.

The point was, Bane was right. Obi-Wan didn’t think a squad of troopers would act on their own to execute a prisoner, and he didn’t know who was else could be involved. Until he did, it was better to hide Bane in a safe location while he contacted the Council for further instruction.

But if he did that… wouldn’t Master Yoda be compelled to share Obi-Wan’s debriefing with the Chancellor? Legally it was what was required, considering this was a Republic matter involving a Republic prisoner, but… Bane had initially surrendered himself into _Jedi_ custody. And he was involved with crimes such as abducting Force-sensitive younglings, stealing a Jedi holocron, and torturing a Jedi to death.

To complicate matters, because that’s what the bounty hunter seemed to excel at, Bane had also committed crimes against the Republic. He had taken senators hostage, murdered clone troopers, freed Ziro the Hutt from prison, and helped carry out an elaborate plot by Count Dooku to kidnap Chancellor Palpatine.

Maybe the question Obi-Wan should be asking himself was: Who _didn’t_ want Bane dead?

 _I don’t,_ Obi-Wan answered immediately. In fact, he might be the only person in the entire galaxy who didn’t want Bane to die a grisly death.

Unfortunately, that also made him the best candidate to protect Bane _and_ investigate who was trying to have him murdered.

Bane waited patiently as Obi-Wan mentally sifted through his possible options. There was no humor or snark in his gaze as he watched, just a sort of dour expectation, as if he already figured the Jedi Master would turn him over to the Republic as soon as he was medically able to make the journey.

Instead, Obi-Wan said, “What I plan to do depends a lot on you.”

Bane raised a questioning brow.

“I don’t follow.”

“Someone wants you dead,” Obi-Wan pointed out.

“You don’t say,” Bane remarked dryly.

“And if you could tell me who this person is, or what group is responsible, I can have a better idea of how to move forward.” Obi-Wan reached up, stroking his beard as he contemplatively looked out the viewport. “I suspect whoever had you moved so quickly from the military base may also have given those troopers their orders to execute you.”

“Got any suspects?” Bane sounded neutral but there was an underlying sharpness to his tone. It made Obi-Wan focus on him more closely as he spoke.

“Just looking at the information we know, I would say it was someone within the Republic military or Senate. The Senatorial Seal on your transportation orders was genuine, not forged. At first, I thought the Chancellor ordered your transfer, but I can’t imagine him ordering those troopers to execute you. It wouldn’t make any sense.”

A non-Jedi would have no idea his words had elicited any sort of reaction from the bounty hunter, but Obi-Wan sensed a bright spark at the edge of Bane’s mind. It was panic and fear, both immediately smothered by his impressive mental shields.

“I’m assuming whoever was responsible used the Senatorial Seal to both cover their tracks and give blanket orders in regards to your custody,” Obi-Wan continued as he watched Bane for more reactions. “Someone _outside_ of the government could have ordered the hit using the Republic’s own protocols, but it would be exceedingly difficult. In fact, the only person who I believe could pull that off is you, but considering how you’re the target, I’m going to go ahead and rule you out as a suspect.”

“How reasonable of you.”

Bane didn’t react as he had before, but he wasn’t exactly at ease either. One thing was clear—he had an idea of who wanted him dead, if he didn’t outright know the identity of the culprit.

“Bane…” Obi-Wan sighed wearily. “I can’t help you if you won’t be honest with me. If I’m going to protect you to the best of my ability, I do need at least _some_ cooperation from you.”

The bounty hunter, for a brief moment, looked conflicted. Obi-Wan could see his jaw muscles work as his mouth clamped together, and he finally said through his teeth, “I can’t. Not… not with this. Just… leave it be, Kenobi. For once.”

Obi-Wan was alarmed to see Bane look suddenly so exhausted, as if his words had cost him a great deal. He’d almost seemed willing to confide in Obi-Wan, but after some internal struggle had decided not to. It was odd behavior, and very unlike the confident and composed persona he had always exuded before.

Bane finally turned away from the Jedi Master and pulled down the brim of his hat. “I’m gonna get some shuteye if yer done wit yer interrogation. Wake me when we get dhere.”

Obi-Wan watched him for a moment, said a quiet, “All right,” and realized that Bane was already asleep. He never would have imagined Bane would put himself in such a vulnerable position in front of the Jedi. Either the bounty hunter finally trusted Obi-Wan, or he was in such a reckless state of mind that he didn’t have any self-preservation left.

Obi-Wan didn’t know which answer was the more concerning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, everyone. Sorry for the delay for this chapter - it took me a little longer than usual because I'm also posting another Clone Wars fic. This one is about Fives and how he's definitely *not* dead, so if you need some hurt/comfort after that Clone Wars finale, may I tempt you with a 70k+ fix-it fic? :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan reaches Bane's hideout just in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Medical procedures

Obi-Wan didn’t try to sleep himself, but he did meditate, seeking out the Force for guidance. It was obvious to him now that he was supposed to keep Bane alive and reveal the conspiracy surrounding him.

What _wasn’t_ so obvious was how to go about doing that. The Force’s will, so clear and urgent while Obi-Wan was rushing to Bane’s rescue, was now shrouded in darkness. The Jedi Master tried not to let his anxiety get the better of him, instead releasing it into the Force, and it did help somewhat.

At least, until he remembered what a bind he was in. He would be hard-pressed to find a valid excuse for not telling the Council what he had done, because from their perspective, there would be no reason for Obi-Wan to hide his actions.

He tried not to think about the memories that floated to the surface of his mind as the bounty hunter rested beside him. There was Takobo, of course, where the bounty hunter had nearly strangled him. And then there was that other, less fatalistic encounter on the _Delano._

Obi-Wan still couldn’t bring himself to fully face what he and Bane had done (or rather, what he had enthusiastically allowed Bane to do to _him_ ), and he was going to put that self-reflection off as long as possible.

However, Obi-Wan couldn’t deny he would have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had at least sent the Council a message informing them of the situation. As a member of the highest ranks of the Order, he certainly had more freedom to act independently, especially when haste was a factor and he couldn’t wait for them to make a decision before an opportunity passed them by.

So why didn’t he contact them now? Tell them what had happened? What was stopping him? It wasn’t as if any of the Jedi themselves could be involved… But then again, Obi-Wan couldn’t say that for sure that they _weren’t_ involved, either. Not since Barriss Offee had been behind the recent bombing of the Jedi Temple. No one was beyond suspicion. The war had turned friends into enemies, and if Obi-Wan’s current situation was any indication, enemies into… reluctant allies.

Perhaps that was going too far. Reluctant co-inhabitants of a barely space-worthy clunker, then.

Obi-Wan was abruptly shaken from his reverie by a violent flash of fear and agony that ripped through the Force, the source of it no farther than the seat next to him.

The Jedi Master bolted out of the pilot’s chair, shocked to see the bounty hunter curled up, pulling in shallow gasps of air as pain radiated and enveloped his entire being.

“Bane? _Bane!”_

The bounty hunter didn’t respond, and Obi-Wan wasn’t even sure he’d heard him. Without thinking, he bent down and hooked his arms under Bane’s knees and back, picking him up as if he weighed no more than a small child. Bane didn’t react, not even to push Obi-Wan away, and that more than anything made the Jedi Master’s chest constrict with fear.

Obi-Wan quickly carried him to the sleeping berth and laid him across its surface. The bounty hunter immediately tried to curl into a ball again and the Jedi had to force his limbs apart so he could unzip his vest and pull up his bodysuit from around his waist. But once he had, Obi-Wan saw nothing that would explain Bane’s agony. The sutures were still in place, though his blue flesh did look inflamed and irritated.

He tried a different tactic. Holding out his hand, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, examining Bane on a deeper, metaphysical level. He bit back a shudder as he sensed something sinister buried deep, so entrenched within Bane’s presence that he hadn’t been able to sense it before.

No, that wasn’t true. He’d sensed the dark side of the Force as he had approached the lapis pit on Draboon. And hadn’t Master Yoda said something about sensing darkness surrounding the bounty hunter?

Bane’s shivering, tense limbs suddenly went slack, and Obi-Wan quickly checked to make sure he was still breathing. He was, even though his breaths were shallow and erratic, and his heart beat too fast within his ribcage.

If Obi-Wan didn’t know better, he would have said Bane was dying.

Had the clone troopers injured him worse than he had originally thought? It was possible they had damaged an internal organ and caused hemorrhaging. Or perhaps it had something to do with the mysterious surgical incision on Bane’s abdomen?

Obi-Wan ran a hand over the bounty hunter’s brow, concerned with the increase in warmth. Duros were reptilian in origin and his skin should have felt cool to the touch. How had he gotten a fever so quickly?

A soft beeping from the cockpit grabbed Obi-Wan’s attention, telling him they were about to drop out of hyperspace. He gave Bane one last worried glance before returning to the pilot’s seat. He didn’t like leaving the bounty hunter unattended, but he also knew if he he didn’t transmit the codes Bane had given him, they would probably be blasted into space dust by whatever aggressive security system Bane had rigged.

After transmitting the codes and receiving the disarming signal, Obi-Wan studied the large object outside of the viewport and realized it was an abandoned fueling station. He docked at the nearest hatch he could find, barely allowing the magnetic clamps to seal onto the ship before he was out of his seat and back at the bounty hunter’s side.

“Bane?”

The bounty hunter was semi-conscious, his face strained while his arms hugged his abdomen tightly as he lay hunched over on his side. He didn’t reply, or even indicate he had heard the Jedi speak.

Obi-Wan felt something sharp tug inside his chest and he picked the bounty hunter up as gently as he could, cradling him in his arms. He walked to the hatch, hit the doorpad with his elbow, and carried the bounty hunter through the docking tube and into the station proper after its doors opened for him.

Obi-Wan slowed his pace as he took in the large, empty fuel depot, and realized he might have a problem. The station was large enough that it might take him a while to find where he was supposed to go.

Remembering what Bane had said about a medical droid, Obi-Wan called out, “Hello? We need medical assistance!”

His tense words echoed throughout the vast space and he felt the figure in his arms give a slight twitch. Obi-Wan looked down at him in worry.

“Bane?”

The Duros didn’t respond but something did break the silence. A low whirring noise, stopping one moment then starting the next, and to him it definitely sounded like the servos of a droid. Obi-Wan called out again, this time in the direction he had heard the noise.

“Hello? Who’s there? Show yourselves, please. I mean you no harm.”

Something small and reflective pulled back from around the corner and Obi-Wan could hear its rapid retreat. Knowing Bane might not have much time, the Jedi Master quickly followed where he had seen the unknown object, finding himself running down a series of hallways as the elusive droid remained just out of sight.

Finally, Obi-Wan came to a large circular doorway that he sensed was his destination. Making sure not to jostle the injured Duros, he made a small gesture with one hand and used the Force to activate the doorpad. The door split into curved sections and pulled away, revealing a space that was definitely the part of the station that Bane occupied.

Weapons and crates lined one side of the large room. Blaster rifles, pistols, energy bows, and even a few electro-staves could be seen. On the other side of the room, there was a workbench with various components scattered across its surface, as well as a desk with a holo-emitter.

Unfortunately, there was no medical droid in sight.

Obi-Wan barely stepped over the threshold when a tiny, angry blur dive-bombed him, swooping at his head while waving its furious little arms.

 _“You killed him! You killed my master! Jedi scum!”_ it shrieked with a mixture of rage and horror. _“I will eject you from the nearest airlock and avenge my master!”_

“Bane is _not_ dead!” Obi-Wan yelled, dodging under the droid’s harried attacked. “I’m trying to help him!”

The droid stopped buzzing through the air, now levitating as it stared at Obi-Wan with its small glowing visual receptors.

“You didn’t kill my master?” he asked in a small, hopeful voice. Obi-Wan actually felt kind of sorry for the droid.

“He’s alive. But he _is_ injured and needs medical attention.” Obi-Wan glanced around the space as he walked further into the room. He didn’t see any obvious beds or sleeping berths anywhere, but there were at least two doors closed off to the main area. “Where’s the medical droid?”

“Oh. This way,” the service droid responded in a more reasonable tone.

Obi-wan recognized him from the time Bane had exploded the poor thing in the Temple Communication Center. Anakin had repaired the droid afterwards, but when he’d tried to question him, the droid had broken out and escaped.

He had also tried to stab Obi-Wan with Quinlan Vos’ lightsaber at a later point in time. There was no doubting the cheeky little droid belonged to anyone other than Bane.

The droid floated across the space to the door on the far left side and Obi-Wan followed. He hoped this medical droid was in better shape than the rest of the station; otherwise Bane’s already dangerous situation would be even more tenuous.

When he stepped through the doorway into a room that must have served as Bane’s sleeping quarters, Obi-Wan’s was disappointed to see the medical droid looked even older than Dex’s ship. It was an early model in the FX-series, maybe even first generation. Rust spots marred its surface and some of its spindly arms looked like they might fall off at any moment. It turned its circular, dome-shaped head toward Obi-Wan, seemed to peer at Bane with its circulate optical receptions, and motioned toward the bed with one wobbly arm.

“Please place the patient on the bed,” the droid intoned with a calm but crackly voice modulator. Obi-Wan did as instructed, his throat tightening as he saw how pale Bane had become. His skin, usually a deep sapphire, was now an alarming shade of desaturated blue. It looked frighteningly wrong.

The Jedi watched as the medical droid hooked Bane up to an air system designed for Duros; the mask was split into an odd shape, not only covering the bounty hunter’s mouth, but the two respiratory slits beneath his cheek bones.

The droid took a moment to run a biomedical scanner over Bane’s prone form, and apparently satisfied with what it had found, the droid sparked up the laser attached to one of its arms. It lowered the laser to Bane’s incision and began to cut through the bandage Obi-Wan had placed on it. From the nightmarish scent curdling the air, the laser was also cutting through Bane’s skin.

Within the blink of an eye, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber was in his hands and thrumming to life, the vibrant blue blade held near the droid’s circular dome. The medical droid paused, slightly rotating its dome-shaped head to focus on the glowing blade inches away.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan demanded. The droid twisted and swiveled its head, fixing him with several eyes of various sizes. Though it was impossible for the droid to form facial expressions, Obi-Wan had the distinct feeling it was looking at him with patronizing patience.

“The patient will continue to internally hemorrhage until the object perforating his fluid sac is removed.”

Obi-Wan blinked rather stupidly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The patient will continue to internally hemorrhage—“

“Fine, fine,” Obi-Wan interrupted hastily, knowing the droid would just talk him in circles. He extinguished his lightsaber, wiped his hair back from his forehead, and said, “Do what you must.”

As if nothing at all had transpired, the medical droid continued its operation. It cut through Bane’s incision, pulled away what was left of the bandage, and then inserted forceps into the wound and spread it apart. Using another arm that _was_ a pair of forceps, the droid reached down into the gaping wound and carefully pulled out an object dripping in green blood.

Obi-Wan didn’t need to be told what it was—the darkness emanating from it through the Force was enough. He sucked in a breath, unable to pull his gaze away from the faintly glowing, crimson crystal. Jagged spikes protruded from the center of the jewel, and it pulsed with malevolence intent, as if sensing Obi-Wan’s presence and delighting in his growing fear.

The droid deposited the object onto a nearby tray, forcing Obi-Wan’s attention back to Bane as the droid cleaned and cauterized the wound. He was relieved to see the droid cover the incision with a bacta bandage, and after it announced they would need to “wait and see if the patient ever awakens again,” it retreated into the corner and went into stand-by mode.

Obi-Wan was already moving, almost stumbling from the room as nauseous roiled his stomach and his head throbbed painfully. It was only going to get worse until… until…

 _There!_ He spotted what he wanted on Bane’s workbench. An empty lead-lined case about six inches across on each side, meant to hold radioactive explosives and ammunition. Its purpose and dimensions didn’t matter—what interested Obi-Wan was the material the box was composed of. He wasn’t sure it would work, but he had no choice but to try. Already he could feel his body weakening, his mind embroiled with bitter thoughts he thought he had abandoned long ago. Sinister tendrils of darkness wormed their way through his conscience, bidding him to give in to his darker, baser instincts.

Such was the effect Sith artifacts had on living beings.

Careful not to touch the object with his bare hands, Obi-Wan tipped the jewel from the tray into the lead-lined box. He snapped the lid shut and released the breath he had been holding. The relief was immediate and overwhelming, the tendrils evaporating from Obi-Wan’s mind as the ominous dark energy was trapped within the confines of the case.

Obi-Wan placed the box to the side and sat heavily on the stool next to the bed. He stared at the bounty hunter with a mixture of horror and confusion.

Bane had been hiding the Sith artifact _inside_ _his own body_? The thought was unbelievable and yet it was undeniably the case.

_Why?_

The question repeated over and over in Obi-Wan’s mind, bringing him no closer to the answer. But it did address other mysteries surrounding the bounty hunter, such as why the troopers had reacted to him so negatively. Unknowingly, they had been in close contact with a Sith artifact, the likes of which would influence and manipulate them into giving in to their cruelest thoughts. Their uncharacteristic anger and hostility toward the bounty hunter made much sense now.

Master Yoda had sensed it too, but none of them had realized the Sith artifact had been right there, so close, just within reach. Within Bane’s chest.

Obi-Wan bowed his head and buried his face in his hands. What had Bane done? _Why_ had he done it? Why hadn’t he just told the Jedi what he had hidden inside of him? Had he really planned to languish with the Sith artifact slowly killing him, refusing to reveal he had the object with him until they agreed to his terms?

 _No,_ Obi-Wan thought. Bane was a lot of things. Suicidal wasn’t one of them.

 _Are you so certain?_ a small voice asked him from the recesses of his mind. He remembered the way Bane had waited, head bowed, for the trooper to pull the trigger.

Obi-Wan lifted his face from his hands, looking at Bane where he lay on the blood-stained bed. He looked so fragile, so very breakable, but at least his color was beginning to return.

How long had he been suffering with the Sith artifact inside of him? And why hadn’t he been willing to tell Obi-Wan?

The questions chased each other around and around in his head, but there was nothing for it. Nothing to do until Bane woke up. If he ever did.

At that grim thought, Obi-Wan began his watchful vigil. Never forgetting that a few paces away lay one of the most dangerous objects in the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to those who guessed what Bane was hiding. Also I missed Todo and had to include him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bane wakes up, still as cranky as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Hope you're doing well and thank you for your patience <3

Obi-Wan could sit and stare at Bane for only so long. Eventually he rose from his bedside vigil, grabbed the lead-lined box, and began to explore the living quarters of the derelict fueling station.

He figured Bane was safe enough—if something went wrong, the medical droid would disengage from standby mode. And if it didn’t, Obi-Wan was confident he would sense if the bounty hunter was in danger. The Force had seen fit to make Obi-Wan into Bane’s protectorate, and he doubted it would let him shirk his duties now.

The living area was sparse and functional. Practical and ambivalent in style. It was a reflection of the bounty hunter himself, and Obi-Wan paid closer attention to how the weapons were organized with careful thoughtfulness. It was in stark contrast to the kitchen area, which was haphazard and chaotic, empty bottles and canteens strewn around haphazardly. Wondering what Bane could possibly be living on for substance, he slid open a cupboard to see rows of uniform MREs.

“Impersonal and efficient,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself, closing the cabinet. He cast a dubious glance to his right, eyeing the second shadow he had acquired. Bane’s little service droid had decided to follow and watch Obi-Wan’s every move. At the moment he was muttering to himself about _thieving Jedi scum rudely disturbing Mister Bane’s coveted belongings._

Obi-Wan snorted and moved on, knowing he wasn’t going to win over the droid anytime soon. He had nearly made a circuitous route of the entire living area when he heard a clatter coming from the bedroom, followed by a droid’s uninterested, monotone voice protesting that _the patient should return to bed._

Obi-Wan hurried to the bedroom door and had to come to a full stop in order to avoid colliding with the object that had suddenly appeared there. Bane now occupied the doorway, leaning against the rusted frame while panting from the effort of getting out of bed. He held a trembling hand over his new bandage as he appeared on the verge of panic.

His crimson eyes finally found Obi-Wan, just standing there in shock, and they remained like that for a moment as they adjusted to the bizarre situation. A strange feeling of guilt washed through Obi-Wan as he realized he should not have left Bane to wake up alone.

“Bane?” he ventured to ask, his voice quiet and questioning as he warily eyed the precarious tilt of the Duros’ lanky body. He seemed as if he was going to tip over.

And then he _did_ tip over, forcing Obi-Wan to rush forward in order to catch him before he hit the durasteel floor.

It genuinely worried him how little Bane seemed to weigh, and how easy it was for Obi-Wan to carry him back to bed. He didn’t struggle, even though he was conscious, but he did glare up at Obi-Wan after the Jedi had gently deposited him onto the blood-stained sheets. That was more like him, at least.

Obi-Wan frowned at the dirty sheets and then looked around to see if there were any clean ones. The all-but-useless medical droid had returned to its corner, looking battered and defeated, and the service droid hovered in the doorway. Though it was impossible to tell from its non-expression, Obi-Wan could sense it was torn between worry for its master and hostility toward the unwanted villain who had sullied the sanctity of their home.

Obi-Wan had gotten very good at interpreting the moods of droids, thanks to his old Padawan.

“Would you be so kind as to fetch some clean sheets for your master?” he asked the droid, almost too sweetly. “These ones need changing.”

It slightly swayed back and forth, perhaps torn between conflicting protocols, and then it flew off to some other part of the station. Hopefully to find some sheets.

“Bossin’ my droid around already, Kenobi? Thought it’d take you longer to overstay yer welcome.”

Bane’s voice was raspy to the point where it was cracking, but it still held enough vinegar to cause Obi-Wan to frown at him.

“Forgive me for not allowing you to lie in your own fluids,” he answered coolly. “Then again, what is that when compared to smuggling a Sith artifact in one’s own body?”

Bane froze so completely and so rigidly that Obi-Wan immediately realized, he didn’t know. How could he, seeing as Bane had been unconscious for the operation and extraction?

“The medical droid removed the artifact. It had to, Bane,” he interjected when the bounty hunter opened his mouth to interrupt. “You were hemorrhaging. It said your fluid sac had been breached, and if it remained in place, you would die.”

If Obi-Wan thought the idea of death would move Bane, he was wrong. The bounty hunter’s expression settled into impassivity, revealing nothing but a blank landscape.

“Bane.” He felt the need to pinch the bridge of his nose very strongly, but he resisted, instead looking the bounty hunter dead in the eye. “Why was that… that thing inside of you?”

“None of yer business,” Bane responded moodily, shifting his gaze away from Obi-Wan as he scowled.

“It is absolutely my business, since my business is to keep you alive,” Obi-Wan retorted just as crossly. “What could have possibly compelled you to do something so senseless? Not to mention incredibly dangerous. Do you understand how—“

“You can stop yer lecturin’, Kenobi” he interrupted, his lips drawn tight over his sharp teeth. “You got what you wanted. Take it and leave. Unless you plan on stickin’ around to arrest me, in which case…”

He gestured vaguely toward the doorway, slightly wincing as he did so as the movement had pulled on his bandage. “… the airlock is on the portside. Feel free to take a walk.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, more in wry disbelief than in denial. Did Bane really expect him to just walk away after… well, everything?

“I’m not going anywhere without answers. Such as, who is trying to kill you. Why you came to the Temple specifically asking for Anakin. Oh, and yes,” Obi-Wan leaned closer, forcing the bounty hunter to look at him as he said, “why you had a Sith artifact _implanted in your ribcage.”_

Bane fixed him with a look so saturated with sourness that it could curdle milk.

“Then get comfy, Jedi, ‘cause I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

Bane turned onto his side, putting his back to Obi-Wan. It was a gesture that no doubt caused him discomfort, if not actual pain, but the bounty hunter’s concern for his own wellbeing seemed to have vanished.

Obi-Wan had to make a real effort to tamp down his annoyance. Annoyance which was quickly edging toward anger. Anger born of concern. It was almost funny. Beginning with their first brief encounter on Rodia, anger was a constant in regards to how he felt about the bounty hunter.

But that anger was always entangled with other emotions. Irritation. Disgust. Smugness. Surprise. Confusion. Reluctance. Desire. Now concern was coupled with the ever-present anger, and it created an emotional mixture that made Obi-Wan anxious. He turned and headed for the door.

“Where you goin’?”

He had to suppress a smile at the question, considering how Bane had just told him to leave. The Jedi paused in the doorway, a hand on the frame as he looked over his shoulder to the bounty hunter who was no longer turned away in a pout. His crimson eyes were narrowed in suspicion, though whether it was because he thought Obi-Wan would stay, or leave him to fend for himself, he wasn’t sure.

“I figured I would try and find us both something edible to eat,” he responded airily, giving a half-shrug. “You know, seeing as how you should be resting until your health has improved. And you _will_ remain in bed this time, or I _will_ bind you in place.”

The vexed, almost outraged expression Obi-Wan received was a small reward, but a reward nonetheless.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now for the first time, a chapter from Bane's POV. This chapter is also the reason I have the tag "that's not how the Force works." Bear with me though, there's a reason for my madness ;)
> 
> Unfortunately we've now caught up to what I've written, so the next update will be a while because I now have to write it :) Oh dear. Thank you for all of your comments and kudos, they really do help with the motivation and keep me going.

Bane thought he had done a damn good job at fooling the insufferable ass known as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

For the remainder of the day, he had managed to lie in bed and make enough snide comments to trick the Jedi into thinking Bane was fine. Beaten to shit, yeah, but there was an unmistakable sense of relief around the Jedi while he sat there, returning Bane’s barbs and acting like this was a perfectly normal, not-totally-fucked-up situation they were in.

But it was fucked. Bane was fucked, and he knew it. If the Sith Lord didn’t come for him, than that damned jewel was going to drive him to madness. He knew exactly where Kenobi was keeping it, too. He could sense it, even now, just a few feet away in the main room.

Just waiting for him. Waiting for Bane.

The need was like an itch under his skin. The jewel had caused him pain at first when he had been ordered to hide it within a fluid sac in his chest. But after a while, it had started to hurt in a good way. And then it had felt powerful.

Bane wasn’t an idiot. He knew the thing would have killed him if it had stayed in much longer—bleeding or no bleeding. But that didn’t make him crave and want and need the cursed thing any less.

And now, here he was, acting like a thief in his own station. He didn’t make a sound as he snuck across the darkened main room, heading for the object of his desire. It pulsed, calling out for him, soothed him with unspoken words and truthful lies.

Bane paused as he spotted something, or rather someone, lying on the floor next to one of the consoles. Even in the dim light, he could see the Jedi’s light-colored hair and his pale skin.

Unwillingly, Bane recalled the last few hours of being forced to tolerate Kenobi’s company. His jokes about trying to make a decent meal out of Bane’s rations. His little quips in regards to how many secret hideaways Bane probably had stashed across the galaxy. The man either enjoyed the sound of his own voice, or he was uncomfortable by Bane’s long stretches of silence.

At one point, Bane had made a valiant effort at being his usual piece-of-shit self by offering Kenobi a space on his bed (“you cooked me a meal and I’m a cheap date”), but his lewd comments had sounded weak even to him. Kenobi had slightly shaken his head, his expression somewhere between pity and amusement.

It should’ve made him angry. He wanted Kenobi to get the hell off his station, never to see his stupid, smug face again, but… he also wanted him to stay. Bane was an addict. A needful thing. He couldn’t even pretend he hated Kenobi at this point. That he only wanted him for a quick tumble in the sheets just to kick him out afterwards. Bane had tried that once before. It hadn’t worked then, and he doubted it would work now.

There was something else he couldn’t deny, either; at the moment, he craved the jewel more than he did the Jedi. Whatever weakness he had for Kenobi couldn’t stop that now. The jewel would be his, or he was as good as dead.

Bane moved closer to where the Jedi had stashed his prize, inside a lead-lined munitions box. It would have worked for anyone else, but not for him. Not when Bane had tasted a sliver of the jewel’s power.

Before, he wouldn’t have thought twice about some infernal Sith artifact, it’s worth to him only as many credits as he could get for it. But now… now he understood why Sith went so crazy for this shit.

His ribcage was burning, fire licking across the space where the jewel had once been, but he ignored it, ignored everything as he reached for the case and opened the lid. Even though it had been magnetically sealed, he had almost been able to see its glow, and now he practically bathed in it, crimson light washing over his skin and filling his whole vision.

Bane reached for the artifact, his fingertips almost brushing across the crystalline spines when a firm hand clamped around his wrist.

Instinctively, he swept his free hand towards his attacker, preparing to backhand them and follow-up with a kick to the stomach, but his other wrist was grabbed just as easily as he first.

Before he knew it, Bane hit the wall and his wrists were pinned across his chest.

He struggled but Kenobi was stronger, Bane still hobbled by his injuries. He seethed at the Jedi Master, baring his teeth while he gasped for air, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he was behaving like a wild animal as he writhed and growled.

Kenobi didn’t give him an inch to move. His grip was firm, just as it had been in Takobo when he’d put Bane in a full body lock, and it made him struggle all the harder.

“Bane,” Kenobi said in a low tone, “you need to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Bane snapped. “ _Fuck_ you, Kenobi.”

“Bane,” he said once more. “This isn’t you.”

“How would you know?” Bane hissed as he tried to buck his hips and dislodge the Jedi, but Kenobi remained steadfast and unmoving.

“While you can be an insufferable, violent, ruthless bastard, you’ve never been one to obsess over items of Sith or Jedi persuasion,” Kenobi responded in a voice so effortlessly confident that it made Bane want to break his pretty face in half.

“You know shit about me,” Bane said so vehemently his voice cracked. “You know _shit,_ you arrogant prick.”

Bane bit down on the closest thing he could reach, which happened to be Kenobi’s shoulder. It proved quite effective, as the Jedi Master no longer wore pauldrons, and his teeth sank right through the robe and into flesh.

He loosened his grip and that was all Bane needed. He shoved his knee into Kenobi’s stomach, not once, but twice, and then punched him so hard across the cheekbone he heard something crack, though whether it was Kenobi’s face or his knuckles, he couldn’t tell.

It didn’t matter. The jewel was calling to him, singing for the blood it wished him to spill and the violence it wanted him to exact.

Bane stumbled forward and grabbed the box, nearly knocking it off the console, but his fingers wrapped around its edges and steadied it. He reached inside and grasped his hand around the jewel, feeling its points pierce his skin as he pulled it from the case.

The jewel was a red star, its previous glow a paltry light compared to how it shone now, blazing through Bane like a wildfire. It felt like a freezing shard of ice, and yet it filled his veins with molten flames that threatened to consume him.

_“Bane!”_

He turned toward Kenobi’s voice. The Jedi was bleeding from one cheek where Bane had broken the skin, but it was the horror in his eyes that filled Bane with intense satisfaction.

“Bane,” he raised his hands slowly, pleadingly. “…Please put down the jewel.”

There was a strange look on the Jedi’s face. If Bane didn’t know better, he would have thought it was fear.

Bane studied him for a moment, and then he looked down at the crystal in his hand. It pulsed with a steady, even rhythm. Like a heartbeat.

“There was a Sith Lord, once. We share a name. I got paid… to go after this Sith’s crystal.” Bane looked back up at Kenobi, unable to keep from his lips spreading over his sharp teeth. “And dhen I got paid to keep it in my ribcage, near my heart, so you Jedi wouldn’t be able to find it.”

His voice sounded strange to his own ears. As if the voice was coming through him, not _from_ him.

“You know what this is, don’t you, Kenobi?” he asked, his strange voice laced with bitterness.

Kenobi’s expression was tense, his brows creased so severely Bane wondered if it hurt.

“This isn’t you, Bane. Put down the—“

“Say it,” Bane interrupted with a hiss. _“Name it.”_

Kenobi’s nose wrinkled in a way that was very canine-like.

“Bane’s Heart,” he finally said, the last word leaving his lips with tired defeat.

Bane’s grin widened.

“Maybe yer Force does have a sense of humor, after all.”

Bane felt it then—a surge, a vibration he could sense that went beyond senses. While they had been speaking, Kenobi had begun to levitate a very heavy ammo crate behind him. The Jedi had mistakenly believed Bane hadn’t known what he was up to.

As the crate came careening toward his head, Bane put up his empty left hand, and stopped the crate in midair. He didn’t even look at it; he could _feel_ it through the Force. Just like a Jedi could.

“The Sith and the Jedi think dhey can hold all the power in the galaxy, “Bane said through his teeth. “But without yer precious Force, yer just like everyone else.”

The anger was building in him now, fed by the jewel, perhaps, but the origin was all his.

“Weak. _Pathetic._ Easy prey. You don’t know what it’s like to be truly powerless, and I’m gonna savor every minute I teach you dhat lesson, Kenobi—“

Bane stopped talking, struck speechless as the jewel was plucked from his grasp, his connection to the power of the Force immediately severed. The crate dropped to the floor with a bang.

“I got it!” Todo yelled as he flew over Kenobi’s head, hovering behind him and slightly wobbling as he tried to keep a hold on the pulsing jewel. “I got it, Master Jedi!”

Shock quickly turned to rage, and what little control he had snapped into a million pieces.

_“You little fucking—“_

Bane never got to finish. Kenobi lunged forward, and the last thing Bane saw was a curled fist, and the world exploded into color before vanishing into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bane's Heart is a real Sith crystal so you know I had to do it to em.


End file.
